Run Past
by Pedestrian Bumblebee
Summary: The temples have burned, and unexpected things come from those who dream. (Chapter 1 up! Sorta. -_-) !!: Here there be slash, and Tuna.
1. Prolouge

My epic. (Well, semi-epic. I'm not much for long chapters...) In other words, what I'm doing while I should be paying attention in Object-Oriented Programming. Comments will be lurrved, constructive criticism will make me cry, but I'll still take it, and flames will be dealt with by stealth ninja assassins. I'm currently replaying FFX in between stretches of KH, so anything that occurs to me will probably end up here too. I need to share. The title is the butchering of one of the fayth's insane rambles near the end of the game.  
  
!!- contains slash, plot contrivances, a whole buncha slash, and a complete disregard of the sequel, whenever it deigns to come out. Forgive me.  
  
Disclaimed: To heck with it, since people seem to view these things as all powerful. You know what? I own Final Fantasy. I own it, and I make Seymour dance for me on Wednesday nights. Square needs to put a disclaimer on their games.  
  
* * * *  
  
Floating.  
  
The world is blue, an endless blur that stretches as far as I can see. I shake my head, trying to make it shatter into recognizable patterns. No luck. How much did I have to drink last night? I've had hangovers the night after a win before, but this is-  
  
A whistle?  
  
There was no win. Nothing to drink, even. I stare upwards, at the watery light that has become my new sky. My hand comes up instinctively to shield my eyes from the glare. Wait, my hand?  
  
Should I have hands on the Farplane? I tread water, circling to take in my surroundings. Seaweed dances lazy in a warm current, and my booted feet stir up plumes of sand. There's nothing else here.  
  
Might as well try up there.  
  
I stroke upwards towards the surface, only half-aware of my actions as my brain struggles to wrap itself around the concept of swimming, of water ruffling the hair that should not exist. I'm so distracted that the shock of hands, a strong grip tugging me upwards, erases years of blitzball training and leaves me only with the most basic infant instinct. I inhale.  
  
I emerge, coughing and sputtering, as each breath tries to fight its way past a lungful of seawater. A blurry shape blocks the light, muttering words that I don't quite catch as my body tries to convince my mind to die again. I close my eyes, willing the dizzying activity around me to go away. The voice focuses, resolves into-  
  
" -Tidus. Damn, he won't cough it up!" I open my eyes a crack, and the first blur is joined by a second, who begins to thump on my chest as the recognizable tingle of a cure spell begins to argue with my fatalistic nerve endings. I can sense a third figure behind me, a leg radiating warmth next to my cheek. A person, then? The third person bends to pry my eyes fully open.  
  
"How the hell did you play blitzball, kid? Can't even hold your breath for a minute." My father laughs.  
  
I seize the opportunity to faint in a manly fashion.  
  
* * * * *  
  
I wake to the sight of the High Summoner Braska with a tea tray full of food, quietly pushing aside the curtain in the doorway. He sets the tray down, and straightens with a clap of his hands.  
  
"Ah, you're awake! No, don't get up, you've had a long couple of days, we understand. Don't blame you in the least bit for that little- err- mishap on the dock." He actually bustles, readying the meal on the tray.  
  
He resembles Yuna so much that it is almost painful. The same smile, the same easygoing manner. He doesn't have her hesitance, that transparent glow that made her seem so fragile in those last days. But his eyes are the same, staring at me expectantly.  
  
With a start, I realize that he has asked me a question. I shake my head, not trusting my voice.  
  
"Would you like some lunch? I'm afraid you missed breakfast." I take this as an open invitation, and proceed to destroy the contents of the plate. I'm just finishing the last of the fruit when Auron walks in, followed by Jecht. The three men gather at the foot of my bed, as an uncomfortable silence stretches the full length. Not surprisingly, it is Jecht who breaks it first.  
  
"So kid, you over it yet? You fainted like a little girl out there, you know."  
  
"Jecht," warns Braska, "don't do this, he's not had the easiest time of it recently."  
  
"And I have?" Jecht folds his arms in a pose I had grown intimately familiar with.  
  
"I'm not saying-"  
  
"Jecht, leave us." Auron straightens up. "I will talk to him."  
  
"Now, what are you trying to-" Jecht steps towards Auron, but is stopped by Braska's hand on his arm. "Auron, we'll just be outside." He beckons Jecht to follow, and to my surprise, my father does so without complaint. Auron blocks my view of the departing pair as he pulls a chair to my bedside. He sits and waits quietly, and I take advantage of the opportunity.  
  
"Auron! How did I get here? How did you get here? Where is here? Is Yuna here? Wh-" He holds up a hand to silence me.  
  
"Most of that, I have no answers for. We are not on the Farplane. Braska thinks that the last act of the Fayth was the creation of this world for you, and for Jecht. It seems that this was their way of rewarding you."  
  
"This world? So we're not on Spira?"  
  
"No." Auron shakes his head.  
  
"But- if the world was for me and Jecht, why are you here?" It must be my imagination, but I could swear that Auron almost looks uncomfortable with my last question.  
  
"We don't know. It may be that Jecht pulled all those that were close to him from the Farplane when he was sent here."  
  
"Close to him? Then why isn't my mother here?" Auron looks for a moment as if he will answer, but then his face slides into a stony blank, and the moment passes. He rises, firmly pushing my shoulder back into the pillow.  
  
"Rest." He turns and leaves without another word.  
  
* * * * * Braska turned as Auron entered the outer room.  
  
"Did you tell him?" Auron shied away from the summoner's gaze.  
  
"My Lord, I could not..." Jecht laughed from his position on the couch.  
  
"He'll figure it out. He's a big boy, not like he doesn't have any experience himself, eh, Braska?"  
  
"Move over." Auron marched over to the couch and slithered into the warm hollow between Jecht and the pillowed backing.  
  
"Bet Auron could tell us all about that, hmm?" Jecht curled an arm around the legendary guardian.  
  
"Mm." The scarred guardian closed his eye and drifted into sleep. * * * * *  
  
I spent the first three days in bed. The next three, I spent roaming the shores of what I discovered to be a small island, combing the sea sand with my toes, happy to be alive. And after that, I sunk into boredom.  
  
It's not that I wasn't thankful that I had a second chance to live. But one can only spend so many days in awe of the world around him. Braska could conjure cookies, coffee, and fruit out of thin air, but books were beyond him. I considered challenging Auron to a staring match, but gave it up as an impossible win. Solo blitzball practice can only be taken so far, and I wasn't about to ask Jecht to play a few rounds.  
  
Jecht was still a question. We both knew that something had changed, something important, but neither of us was ready to confront it for what it really was. Braska, it seemed, was quite ready to help us confront it, and I took to avoiding him, hiding in what had become my room, and pondering the mysteries that my very existence seemed to raise.  
  
It didn't take me long to solve the first mystery. Just spending time alone in a room with Jecht, Auron, and Braska was enough to hint that something was truly different. I was constantly walking into conversations that died with my arrival, hidden smiles, and Braska's stifled giggles.  
  
It didn't surprise me in the least the day I walked into the kitchen to find my father standing with Auron at the window, arm around his waist, insulting him with relish even as Auron shifted to hold him tightly against his chest. A few days later I passed Braska as he returned from the beach holding tightly to Auron's hand. They dropped hands as soon as they spotted me, but it was already too late.  
  
Had it not been so soon, I would have never caught them. But it had been ten years for them, ten years apart, knowing each other's fates, but unable to do anything about it. When Braska let go of Auron, I had seen the shadow of pain that flitted across his face. After that, I left them all alone. They had earned the right to privacy.  
  
But I was still bored.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Light. Dark.  
  
If he could have died, he would have done so long ago. Every night the tides come in, drowning his cracked skin in stinging salt water. Every morning, they roll out, leaving him to bake under the sun, unhindered in its cloudless sky. His hair mingles with the sea, becoming almost invisible as the colors blend.  
  
And on the rock that his body clings to unconsciously, he sleeps fitfully. He dreams only of the girl in the white dress, coming from the sky to mock him as the seaweed twines around his feet. 


	2. Chapter 1

Run Past:  Attack of the Silly Title!

            Yes, it's a bad title, and the sort of thing one comes up with while up far past her bedtime.  I may change it, but I really can't think of another.  Hmm.  Maybe in a few chapters I'll get some reader input.

            Well, I warned you it would possibly take awhile.  I managed to pass Calc II despite using the class period primarily to doodle and write a couple plot outlines.  Hopefully the updates will be more frequent now.  *Pauses for hysterical reader laughter*

            Read the warnings at the beginning, if you haven't already.  And remember, this story has nothing to do with the bikini-clad, Sphere-Gridless cash-in that is FFX-2.

* * * * *

            "Yuna?  Are you ready?"  Lulu smoothed her skirt over her hips, ignoring the clatter of dozens of belt buckles in harmony.  Yuna startled, clutching the rough wood of the dock to avoid pitching face first into the ocean.  "Yuna?"

            "Oh.... I.... I'm fine."  Yuna rose to her feet unsteadily.  Stretching, she turned to face Lulu.

            "Is it done, then?"  Lulu nodded.

            "Are you ready?  It's almost time."  Lulu watched as the sun slipped out from behind a cloud, flooding the dock in it's warm glow.  Deep shadows formed in the hollows of Yuna's face, bleeding across the dark circles around her eyes.  Striding back to Yuna, she enveloped the younger woman in a fierce hug.

            "Yuna, you don't have to do this.  No one will blame you if you don't."  Yuna's eyes widened as she emphatically shook her head.

            "No!  I have to!  If.... if there's any chance that that this will work, we have to take it!"  Yuna looked one last time at the ocean, then turned back towards the beach.  Tightening her grip on her summoning rod, she began to walk in the direction of Besaid.  Lulu watched her go, sighing to herself.

            They were lucky, Lulu thought, to have been on the winning side.  That they had rid the world of Sin, a feat not accomplished by generations of Yevon's summoners, was enough to save them in the end.  When the anti-Yevon riots began, they remained unmolested in Besaid.  When the people rose up, they attacked the most visible symbols of the old order they could find.  Summoners and guardians fought as well as they could, but were overwhelmed by the tide of hatred.

            Lulu remembered the helpless feeling of those early days.  Trapped in Besaid, dreading the inevitable report from Rikku's network of informers.  Every day brought more violence.  Priests were killed.  Citizens still loyal to Yevon were lucky to escape with their lives, but lost their homes and property to the angry mobs.  The great Temple of Bevelle was the last to fall, its treasures looted, and its statues smashed in the streets.

            Lulu turned her attention back to Yuna, now halfway down the beach.  Yuna had taken it the hardest of them all.  She had watched her dream of a united, peaceful Spira die in the flames of Yevon's temples.  Lulu, Wakka,  Kimhari, and Rikku had watched worriedly as she lost weight, her cheekbones becoming painfully prominent in her face as the weeks passed.  New lines began to etch themselves in her formerly smooth face, and dark circles became an almost permanent fixture under her eyes.

            Ultimately, it had been Yuna's deterioration that led them to what they were about to do.  Even Rikku's determination had been swayed as Yuna began to fade.  Lulu was unwilling to consider the consequences of failure.  This had to be done, to save the girl she considered a little sister.  She had followed her across Spira, into Sin itself, and she would be with her now, regardless of how she felt about it.

            "Lulu!  This is no time to be daydreaming!"  Lulu looked up to see Yuna waggling her finger in mock disapproval, a ghost of her old smile creeping across her face.

            "Forgive me, _Lady Summoner."  Lulu mustered an equally nostalgic eye roll.  The two walked back to the village, thinking of happier times than the ones to come._

* * * * *

            "Lord Hannis!  Lord Hannis!  Oh, save me, save me!!"  The princess swooned, imprisoned high above the clouds in her tower.

            "Princess!  I will save you, have no fear!"  The bold Lord Hannis ran across the courtyard beneath the impregnable spire.

            "Ha!  Not so fast, Lord Hannis!"  The evil Councilor Ambrose stepped out from the shade of a nearby outbuilding.

            "You will not escape this time, old friend,  How exactly do you plan on rescuing your dear Princess, hmm?"  Lord Hannis glared at him rather heroically.  

            "You cannot stop me, Ambrose!  You may be evil, but I have a far greater power on my side!"

            "Oh?" the villain replied sarcastically, "And what would that be, pray tell?"

            "Because, I have the power of true love, and it is one that you will never-"  A tanned foot crushed the princess' tower from above, effectively ending the debate.

            "Oops.  Uh, sorry."  I squinted up into the sunlight, tossing aside the newly-bereaved  twigs representing Lord Hannis and Councilor Ambrose.

            "Hey, Dad."  My father did look sheepish, at least, considering his violent regicide.

            "Mind if I sit down, kid?"  I shrugged.  He dusted the sandy ruins of the princess' tower out of the way before stretching out next to me.

            "So, uh, how ya doing?"  Jecht looked uncomfortable, my first signal that this conversation wouldn't be pleasant for either of us.  I decided to get it over with.

            "What did you want to tell me?"  He shifted nervously in the sand.

            "Braska, well.... Braska wanted me to make sure you were okay, you know, with...."

            "You?  And.... them?"  Jecht sighed.

            "Look, you're probably wondering about a lot of things, and if you're not comfortable with it, we didn't mean for you to see us like this, and-"  Jecht was babbling, another new experience for me.  The Jecht I knew would never have been nervous, would have just come out and said everything, whether or not I wanted to hear it.  I drew my knees up, hugging them to my chest.

            "How did it happen?"

            "It's.... different when there are only three men on a pilgrimage.  You wouldn't know, Yuna had so many guardians.  It was a lot more dangerous for us.  And I was sober for the first time in a long time, and I had finally realized I couldn't go home."  He chuckled softly.  "And that stick up Auron's ass was keeping him from telling Braska how he felt.  He should thank me for bringing it all out."

            I imagined Auron pining over Braska.  Writing terrible angst poetry.  Crying at night while clutching a stolen sock.  My old man must have recognized my inattention; he poked me hard in the ribs.

            "Kid, this ain't easy, okay?  The least you could do is listen to me."  I cringed internally at the next question, but knew I had to ask it.

            "What about-"  I cleared my throat.  "What about Mom?"  Jecht looked away from me.

            "I don't think you want to hear it, kid."

            "No, I have to know, please....  Dad?"  It felt strange to say that name and not immediately feel the hatred tightening my chest.  Instead, I felt different, like all that fire was slowly leaking out.  In its place was a bitter lump, spreading cold tendrils outwards.  I wasn't sure that this was any improvement.

            "Your mom and me, we got married for the wrong reasons, you know?  I was never home, and I drank too much, and after awhile she just turned into another adoring fan.  When I met Braska and Auron, there wasn't anything left to betray."

            "The wrong reasons.  You mean me."  My father didn't reply, but he didn't have to.  I could compare the dates on the marriage license and birth certificate myself.

            I had watched my mother die.  Without my father, she shriveled into herself, sleeping all day and listlessly staring at the wall when awake.  I was seven years old, suddenly left to fend for myself.  Auron made sure I was fed and out of trouble, but he didn't know anything about taking care of a child.  And Jecht hadn't felt the same thing.  He had just gone on with his life, while my mother died calling for him.

            I jumped to my feet, as the warmth of that familiar fire seeped back through the veins of ice.  My hate had been the only thing constant in those years, everything my mother and father hadn't been.  I clung to the hatred of my father, feeding it.  The hate was mine, and I had been a fool to think that something as trivial as Sin could have erased it.  I began to back away as tears stung the corner of my eyes.

_            Crybaby._

            "Tidus!"  Jecht reached out a hand to stop me.

            At that moment, the world slowed.  My feet clung to the ground as if trapped in quicksand, and I overbalanced.  The ground came up to meet me with agonizing slowness.  The world flashed red, and suddenly I felt pain.  Nothing, not even my brushes with death while fighting fiends, had been this painful.  It seemed that every molecule in my body had decided to pull apart.  I screamed.

_            "Yuna, you're losing it!  You have to focus!"_

_            "I'm... I'm trying!"_

            The pain lessened, fading into a detached numbness, almost like floating.  The world around me began to grow hazy, shifting in and out of focus haphazardly.

            _"I can't...  It's fighting me!"_

_            "C'mon, Yunie!  You can do it!  I know you can!"_

            The haze solidified, the trees and sand castles melting into a uniform white.  I was barely conscious when I felt the first tentative tug.  With a jolt, my "self" sprang forward, and I collided head first with unconsciousness.

* * * * *

            Yuna sunk to her knees, coughing feebly.  Lulu rushed forward to cradle her head as she collapsed to the floor, eyes closing in exhaustion.   She stirred a little as Kimhari bundled her into his arms, a small smile playing on her lips as she began her first untroubled sleep in months.

* * * * *

            The awakening was almost familiar.  Blinking slowly, my eyes adjusted to the murky light underwater, as I floated listlessly.  I closed my eyes again, determined to adjust to the situation before rushing upwards towards a lungful of water.

            I was thrown sideways, my eyes snapping open, as a bare foot impacted my shoulder.  I treaded water, trying to determine the location of my attacker.  The dark figure pushed something heavy and red in my direction, hitting me full-on in the chest.

            Auron.  The large red weight in my arms was Auron, and Jecht, having shoved him in my direction, was desperately pursuing a slowly sinking mass of fabric that could only be Braska.  Auron's head lolled limply to the side, adding to his weight.  I remembered that unlike myself, Auron had no blitzball training, and this prolonged oxygen depravation was, in all likelihood, not very good for him.  I stroked to the surface,  struggling to drag Auron towards a nearby shore.  Auron as dead weight was heavy, but his soaked garments made the task almost impossible.  I cast a plea to whatever entities had decided to drop us into the ocean to smile upon Braska's similar rescue, generously offering to sacrifice my father if necessary.

            To my relief, my feet brushed the shifting sands of the sea bottom.  I dragged Auron up to the shore, oblivious to the shouts that began from farther down the beach.  Propping myself up, I began to beat on Auron's chest, willing him to let go of the salt water the filled his lungs.  I hardly even noticed when rougher hands than mine pushed me back, taking over as Auron finally began to cough up seawater.

            "Tidus?"  I turned my head in the direction of the voice, a figure swimming before my eyes.

            "W- Wakka?"  I managed to ask, before, in what was now becoming a rather embarrassing habit, I fainted.

* * * * *

            He hardly notices as the world around him dissolves.  His body begins to melt away with it, disappearing even as the endless sea fades.  Some small spark still left in him, however, will not be denied so easily.  Casting out, it seeks the far off blaze of power like a moth, gathering up the last of its strength.  As the rock beneath him joins with the sea, he throws himself out of the dream, towards the light.

* * * * *

            "Get out of here!"  She hit the pavement, skidding on an already bruised knee.  The shop owner followed her out, throwing the trash he had on hand after her as she struggled to rise.  She stood, turning to run back into the alley she had so carefully left moments before.

            "Dirty Yevonite scum!" he yelled.  "We don't want your kind here!"

            She ran until her chest tightened, afraid to look behind her.  If there was an angry gang following her, she'd rather die in ignorance.  Finally, her body demanded that she slow, and she collapsed on a pile of crates a block from the harbor.  Her stomach rumbled painfully, reminding her exactly why her trip to the store had been so important.  Even the money purse at her hip was gone, still sitting on the store counter.  What few gil she had had to spare were now undoubtedly property of the store owner, a reward for doing his civic duty.

            There was always fish.  Her crude fishing pole was propped  in the corner of the tiny room she now called home, and she rose to go fetch it.  It wasn't so bad, really.  She could still get food, and she wasn't out of gil yet.  Her home was cozy, really, it reminded her much of her acolyte's quarters.  It was all in how you looked at it, and Shelinda was determined that she would keep seeing light in the situation.

           She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts, she almost tripped over the prone figure at the edge of the water.  That, in itself, was remarkable, seeing as how the figure was well over six feet, naked, and surrounded by a cloud of bright blue hair.  Worried, she nudged him with her fishing pole.

            "Sir?"  The man groaned weakly.  Shelinda gathered her white magic around her, healing him even as she struggled to turn him over.  She stared at his newly exposed face in shock.

            Her features hardened with resolve.  Helping the barely conscious man to his feet, she quickly tied her threadbare coat in a semblance of modesty around his waist.  Staggering, she steered him to her room, thanking any gods who happened to be listening that it was so close, and on the ground floor.  Laying him on the bed, she quickly tallied her remaining gil.

            There was enough to buy him some medicine.  Her stomach could wait.  Shelinda would not let this man die yet, no matter what the price.


End file.
